Wonderland
by Jennie
Summary: She almost wants to say she's a prisoner at times but that can't be, because she has such a loving, caring husband. But one day, when two mysterious entities attack her home, Maddie Masters realizes that there is much that has been kept from her...


**Title:** Wonderland

**Author:** Jennie

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Danny Phantom and everything associated with it does _not_ belong to me.

**Summary:** She almost wants to say she's a prisoner at times- but that can't be, because she has such a loving, caring husband. But one day, when two mysterious entities attack her home, Maddie Masters realizes that there is much that has been kept from her...

**AN:** Thank a discussion on a forum here with **UR **and **Esme** for this bunny. We were talking about Vlad and his motivations and I asked a question, received a few answers, and was hit by a bunny. It's something I've never seen done before, and is sort of AU, but not really. More like AU undertones. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading and any comments, questions or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

* * *

_"In a Wonderland they lie,_

_Dreaming as the days go by,_

_Dreaming as the summers die:_

_Ever drifting down the stream --_

_Lingering in the golden gleam --_

_Life, what is it but a dream?"_

-Lewis Carroll, "Through the Looking Glass"

* * *

_Drip._

_Drop._

_Drip._

_Drop._

Rain patters on the window, a soothing melody off-setting the stark distress of her dream. She sits straight up, heart pounding, sweat glistening on her brow, as she untangles herself carefully from the covers and slips out of bed quietly in an effort to not wake her sleeping husband.

A dream.

That's all it is- a dream.

She can't remember it, exactly, but is aware that whatever she dreamed, it utterly terrified her. She could wake her husband, ask for comfort, but it's pointless- the dream is over with, she knows she's safe, and perhaps the rain will do her some good. Tip-toeing, grabbing her dressing gown from the chair, she cracks open the balcony doors, letting in the cool mist, before taking a step out into the wet.

She stands there, a vision of innocence in the white dressing gown and nightgown, her feet bare, her reddish hair loose. She's not afraid of being seen- not only is it the middle of the night, but her husband's castle (because there really is no other word for it) is in the middle of nowhere, with only cows for neighbors. It's a beautiful night, even with the torrent of rain, and she enjoys the cooling sensations on her skin, getting into her eyes, soaking her hair and clothing.

She feels free.

Ever since the accident- a horrible car crash that took her husband's life and left her with amnesia- she has felt a certain...hold on her being. She loves her husband very much, but she cannot deny that he sometimes is _too_ protective of her, although she can hardly blame him.

He did, after all, almost lose her once, and he has already expressed many times the fear of losing her again.

Her earliest memory is waking up in a white room, under bright lights, the man she now calls her husband peering at her. She panicked at first, unaware of what was going on or who she even was, but he soon explained it to her. Eight months ago, she and her husband were driving to visit their old friend- him- when her husband lost control of the car and crashed it. He died on impact, and she spent the time in a coma, with no one sure if she would ever wake. She did, of course, but she had nothing, no possessions, no family- any memories. She did not even remember her own name.

So her future husband (though she wasn't aware of it at the time) took her under his wing, moving her into his home, taking care of her needs, and telling her tidbits of her past, ones that would not frighten or worry her. Three months into her recovery, he confessed that he loved her- always had- and while he understood that she was still weak, both physically and mentally, he would like to court her, with her permission.

She granted his request.

It's been over a year since she woke, and while she is doing fine physically, mentally she still has problems. Oh, she's intelligent and has no problems keeping up with her husband when they talk about various things. But she still has no memories of her life before the accident, and she sometimes suspects she never will.

It hurts too much.

She'll remember flashes occasionally, but nothing too important. Sometimes she will question her husband about her past, but he rarely answers, instead saying he doesn't wish to bring up unhappy feelings or memories that might hurt her or cause a relapse in any way. She understands this, although sometimes it is hard to accept- when everyone else has a past, but her.

Of course, the last year has been wonderful to her. Soon after they started courting, he proposed to her in a wonderful and romantic setting. She accepted, of course, and they were wed a month later in a private ceremony. Since then, her life has had a purpose- being a wife is an important job he continuously reminds her when she becomes restless. And she must agree- their home is now _her_ domain, and it's a nice feeling to have something dependant on her, after a life with seemingly nothing.

Her husband's sleepy voice calls for her, and she steps back in their bedroom, damp from the rain.

"I'm here, Vlad. I just stepped out to get some air." She glides over to his side of the bed, smiling. "I woke and decided that I could use the rain to clear my head- I wasn't sleeping very well."

"You shouldn't be out in the rain, dearest." He raises a hand, runs it over her sodden clothing, her moist hair. "You'll catch cold."

"No, I won't," she responds, rolling her eyes in the dark, knowing he cannot see. "I'll be fine, love."

"No- you must get changed and then return to bed. I shall hold you to help you sleep." He throws off the covers, stands. "Come, I shall fetch you dry things." When she stays at the side of the bed, he turns from her closet and frowns at her in the muted light. "_Come_, Maddie. You can't stay in those wet things."

"I think you're overreacting," she replies, but goes to him.

He has a habit of treating her like a child when she 'disobeys' or he is unhappy with her. She does not remember her first husband, so she cannot say if he treated her the same way. But in the novels she reads, only the ones set in the past, in times when women served men and the men were the Lords of their estates, do they treat their wives the same way she is treated.

She doesn't care for it much.

Unfortunately, Vlad doesn't seem to care.

Taking the dry things from him- he even picked out her _undergarments_, for heaven's sake, she retreats inside the bathroom connected to their suite and takes a quick warm shower before putting on the new items. She knows he'll insist on the shower if she doesn't do it on her own, and quickly drying her hair with a towel, she steps out before he can knock on the door and ask how she's doing.

"Can we get back to bed now, darling?" She asks, looking up at him. "I am a bit tired." This is untrue, but it's best just to pretend for the moment. He'll make a fuss if she admits to not being tired anymore, or expresses a wish to leave the balcony doors open, so she can receive some fresh air and be calmed by the scent and sound of the rain.

He...he can be extremely overprotective at times.

"Of course, my love." He follows her into bed, and puts an arm around her, pulling her close to him. She listens to his breathing even out as he falls back into a slumber, and closes her eyes. The rain continues to fall, sleep washes over her, and she thinks of what the morning will bring...

* * *

Her life...isn't always easy.

Oh yes, it's filled with nice things and a caring husband. But- as much as she loves her husband and can't imagine- or remember- life without him, sometimes she has to wonder what his motives are- or if he has any.

She almost wants to say she's a prisoner at times.

But- but she's _not_. No, no, of course she isn't. After all, there's a reason she's kept inside, right? She was so hurt after that accident, almost dead. Even now she hasn't _completely_ recovered. She's still missing memories...

It's for her own good. She _knows _that; Vlad always tells her that when she asks. She's not ready yet; the world is a hard, cruel place- it's _safer_ to keep her locked up, away from the world and its prying eyes. But it _would_ be nice to see other faces beside her husband's and the occasional servant. And she really _does_ dislike being put in her rooms, when someone comes to call, like a misbehaving child.

She'd actually like to have a friend for once.

Or- or have a purpose, outside of being an attentive wife, pleasing her husband. Though...is she even that? She sees the way he looks at her sometimes, as if there's something _missing_. As if there's something _wrong_.

But she never says a thing.

She never _dares_ say a thing.

Her Vlad does not like questions, especially ones she's asked so many times before. _Especially _ones about her past or late husband. "He's _dead_," he'll say, flying into a barely controllable rage. She'll shirk back, apologizing. He'll calm, tell her that it isn't important, that dwelling on the past will only cause her pain, and only keep her from healing. And she _does_ want to heal, doesn't she?

Of course she does.

So she's left alone, in the expansive and ostentatious manor, reading, sleeping, using the gym to exercise- she's not even allowed _outside_ without her husband, so she cannot go walking, and keeping in physical shape is important, she has been told. Every month, Vlad and a doctor do an examination, and every month, she's declared physically fit, but mentally lacking.

Once, when Vlad was busy with something and his back was turned, she inquired about when and how she'd ever become completely healthy- both physically _and_ mentally. She'll never forget the doctor's smirk, as he replied that such a feat would probably _never_ be possible- that she'd be trapped the rest of her life.

She broke down.

She became a ball on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks, pooling on the floor. Vlad came storming over, eyes furious, demanding to know what had happened and what she had done. But when she told him, his demeanor softened and he held her apologetically, promising that he'd do whatever was in his power to help her heal- to help her become whole, though he did not know how much he really _could_ do- for she truly had to heal herself.

Things were...not _better_ between them, for awhile, because things have never been bad between them. But they had an extra...depth between them. He took her outside more often, and they'd walk down the road and in the gardens. He was more forthcoming about his work- instead of telling her that it would simply be over her head and dull besides, he began explaining to her what he did every day.

She found herself getting better.

But then- and she _should_ have known better- she also started remembering things about her late husband, and inquiring. What had he been like (she still doesn't even know his name), did they have a good marriage, where was he buried, was it possible to see the grave? She believed that knowing more of her past would truly help her completely heal. After all, wasn't that how it worked in the novels she occasionally read? She wasn't allowed television (Vlad explained that most of it was trash anyway and she needn't waste her time), but she did have an entire library of books to read. Most of them were novels of various sorts, though anything involving ghosts- even _Wuthering Heights_, which she never was allowed to finish-, was taken away from her. She asked once why, but received the answer that horror was a horrible genre and he didn't want her to get nightmares.

In any case, once she started asking questions, the walks ceased. She could almost feel the way her mind was closing up again, and hated the feeling. But no amount of pleading worked- the walks were over, as well as the memories.

She retreated back into the half-lifeless thing she had been ever since she awoke.

* * *

One day- she is rarely aware of the passage of time- she's reading a book on radioactive isotopes. One of her vague memories is of science, and she sometimes sneaks into Vlad's "forbidden" library to borrow books (he only likes her reading novels and only "non-violent" or "non-confusing" non-fiction- he's afraid everything else will cause painful memories). And she respects his opinion and _trys_ to be obedient, but she _is_ only human...

When the door opens to her chambers (while they share a bedroom, she has her own sitting room, bathroom and dressing room), she shoves the text under the desk and immediately turns to another "allowed" novel on the desk. But he doesn't seem to notice- or care- which is rather odd...

"Quickly, darling," he speaks, his face flushed. "There's a frightfully pesky teenager, who broke in and is now causing trouble. You must _promise_ me to stay here and not to venture out until I come for you."

"Someone broke in?" Her voice is hushed, frightful of what having a stranger in the house might mean. She stands up, "but I thought it was impossible to break in, with your security system-"

"No matter of that now, Maddie darling. What matters is that he _is_ in and that I must deal with him- but I cannot if I have to worry about you. Promise me, my sweet, _promise_ me." And the way he takes her hand in his, the way his bright eyes implore her- she can only agree to his wishes.

"All right," she quietly says, "I promise."

And she _does_ mean to keep her promise. She truly does. It's not as if she'd be any help out there- she has no experience in fighting whatsoever- and honesty is such a powerful tribute, and Vlad has always been honest with her, she _should_ return the favor. Twisting her wedding and engagement bands, she prepares to go back to reading, never intending to go against her word, or hurt her husband.

Unfortunately, Fate has a way of tampering...

It's hard to sit hidden and be quiet while your husband is seemingly fighting for his life- and yours. Crashes, yells, the ground quakes. She wishes that there was _something_ that could be done, that she could be more helpful. But she knows that she can't do anything and she shouldn't get in the way.

Then a wail is heard- a horrible sounding thing, one which causes her to dive under the desk, covering her ears. The walls shake- and give in. Plaster rains down upon the room; books are tossed off the shelves as the shelves break together. It's chaos- utter chaos.

Humans have a survival instinct. It's considered common sense to get out of the way, if something is threatening to fall on your head. This is exactly what Maddie does. Madeline Masters may have amnesia, she might be permanently damaged mentally- but she has never been stupid.

She gets out of the way.

She runs out from under the desk, which is already creaking and threatening to break. She dashes towards the door, pulls it open. The hallway is a mess- plaster on the floor, molding ruined, and the walls are still shaking. The mansion is literally falling apart beneath her feet, as she steps carefully to avoid places where the floor has fallen through to the story underneath.

And her husband standing in the middle of it- or at least he should be...

Instead, two figures are floating above the ruins. A mere _teenager_, she is surprised to find, wearing a black jumpsuit (why does that sound familiar) and bright white hair is across from her, facing down the hallway. This has to be the boy Vlad was talking about. And the other person- he scares her. Horrid red eyes, fangs- she has no idea where he came from, and she doesn't want to know.

But that doesn't matter. What matters is who or _what_ they are. She's never seen anything like them in her life- and the fact that her husband is apparently missing worries her.

"Vlad?" She cautiously peers out further into the hallway. Perhaps he has hidden himself or ducked for safety like she did. "Are you there," she whispers cautiously, not wanting to attract the attention of the two..._floating_ men. Unfortunately, she does not succeed, as both turn to stare at her.

The one with the red eyes looks furious to see her, but it is the boy who speaks. "_Mom_?" He seems confused. "What are _you_ doing here? Two hours ago, you were working on some invention with Dad..."

Mom? He calls her after his mother? But- she _has_ no children. She's asked before, wondering if she and her late husband had had them, and the answer has always been "no"- she did not have any. She'd like them, she admits. She knows she's not old- she _could_ get pregnant. But Vlad says that as much as he wants children with her, it would be best to wait until she's healed. "After all," he would say, "you wouldn't want the children growing up with a 'damaged' mother"- and she has to agree. It _wouldn't_ be fair to them.

Still...

"I told you, Daniel, I have her- now you must _truly_ join me!" The...evil looking figure yells, unleashing a reddish blast. She takes a step back, afraid and unsure of what to do. Unfortunately, she steps back onto a weak place in the floor- and is sent falling- down into what looks to be a hidden chamber, landing hard, but luckily not enough to hurt herself.

A hidden chamber. That's ridiculous, isn't it? Her husband would never have a hidden chamber in the basement, nor a lab. He's a business man, not a mad scientist. Any labs he has are part of the corporation and therefore found in company buildings, not in the bowels of his own mansion.

And- and even if he _had_ a personal lab- she knows that his degree is in science, though he refuses to discuss it with her, always saying that their College days are too painful for her to remember- it certainly wouldn't be _hidden_. Yes, it may be in the basement, and yes, she previously had no knowledge about it. But then, she never asked, did she? She's sure if she went to him right now, where _ever_ he is, and asked if he had a lab in the basement, he would say yes. It's probably not even in use anymore.

It's stupid to suddenly think of secrets and hidden chambers when discovering something new- and if there is one thing she is _not_, it's stupid. Vlad is always praising her intelligence, remarking that she's just like the Maddie he remembers. She asked him once, about the way he said that- isn't _she_ the Maddie he remembers? But he gave her a simple answer- after her accident, she has changed, has she not? Of course she has, and therefore while she is, in essence, Maddie- the same Maddie he remembers- unfortunately she has no memories of ever _being_ that Maddie.

She's different, without her memories. Damaged, as it were, though he refuses to call her that, and she is grateful. Innocent, is the term he uses, innocent and refreshing- with a new outlook and start in the world. He doesn't want her to lose that, he'll whisper into her ear at night, when he hugs her close in bed, he wants to protect her from the hard and cold truths of the world. She received a second chance at life- isn't her life worth losing some unimportant memories? And she has to agree with him, as he softly strokes her, she has to admit that in comparison to _that_, she really _should_ be thankful for what she has...

She asked to see pictures, once, of what she formerly looked like. He showed her a ruined photo, torn on the right side, of the two of them during College. He says that _that_ picture is safe, for he knows it will bring up no painful memories. All the others, though...he dares not risk it, risk her. She...doesn't blame him. But she would like to see more mementos of their time together when they were young.

It doesn't matter now.

Now she has to investigate where she is and what exactly she's supposed to do to get out of there. Finding her husband is foremost on her mind, as lines of worry crinkle her brow. Are the two...specters...still upstairs? Did they harm her husband? Is he all right? Did he manage to throw them out?

She begins to shift through debris, trying to find the door or at least a light switch- it's pitch black with only the light from the floors above coming through. Inadvertently, she finds it, as she trips over a piece of metal and ends up sprawling across the wall. A door springs open next to her, allowing a look into a chamber, lighted only with a green glow.

Cautiously she steps over the wreckage, entering into the unfamiliar room. Perhaps here, in a room seemingly free from rubble, she would find a way out. The green light, she now realizes, comes from tubes. They're human sized, and seem to hold undistinguishable figures. She walks forwards, keeping a hand to the wall.

_Click._

Apparently she _has_ found the light switch... Blinking in a blaze of bright light, she surveys the room. The tubes still glow green, but not as brightly. And now she can finally see the contents of them-

Women.

Women in various states of development and body type. A young girl, probably in her early teens floats unconsciously next to a woman who probably is the same age as Maddie herself, except this woman is extremely obese. Across from them is a young woman in her early twenties, probably- floating motionlessly, her chestnut locks covering her face... She peers closer and jumps back- this woman is missing a hand! And as she looks around, she realizes that all of them have some sort of defect- missing a limb, so pale to the point of being see-through, extremely large, extremely frail- the list goes on.

She's horrified.

Why does her husband have a lab full of _people_ in their basement? Why would he keep these poor women locked up like this, in some kind of stasis? There are monitors connected to each tube, she notices, each one tracking some kind of reading from the women. Heart, lungs, blood pressure- they all beep silently.

It's _terrifying_.

She backs up- and walks right into what looks to be some kind of _operating_ table. Unforgiving steel causes a bruise on her arm, and she winces, whirling around to investigate the object. Restraints, monitors, IV stands. A tray of operating equipment, including scalpels and clamps. She knows her husband holds no medical degree- that he is a Physicist and a Chemist and does not- or _should_ not have the knowledge to have something akin to an operating theater in his basement.

How well _does_ she know her husband?

Running her hands over a keyboard hooked up to a massive computer unit in the wall, she jumps as it turns on. The funny thing is that she seems to have a vague recollection of this room, as if she's been here before. She can almost _see_ the harsh light from above the table; hear the hum of the computer, the..._silence_ from the tubes. She remembers feeling as if she were being watched- as if there was someone in the background, pulling every string...

Why can't she remember! It's frustrating to have no memories- to have to go your entire life without knowing who you really are. And the boy- what_ever_ he was- he seemed to know her. He seemed to _remember_ her.

_Don't be ridiculous_. She shakes her head, tries to clear it as she glances at the opening screen of the operating system. Dalv Corps- well that's nothing surprising, her husband has mentioned the company a few times in passing. He uses it for experimental research, she seems to recall, though he wasn't very forthcoming when she asked him. Mentioned something about bringing up bad memories...though it isn't as if she has any memories in the _first_ place...

She loves Vlad, and he loves her. Taking in a woman with absolutely nothing to her name- not even a name- and loving her and marrying her- not many people would do that. She knows that they have a deep bond, and she truly is thankful for him and the life he gives her. Without him, what would she be? Nothing, that's what. She'd probably be in some state hospital for the mentally ill, trying futilely to regain memories that don't seem to exist...

"_Shall I display the file last accessed, Vlad darling?_"

She startles, her heart racing. Is that _her_ voice? Coming from the _computer?_ This- this doesn't make any sense. "Um- yes, yes please." She wonders if it will recognize her voice; realize that she is not her husband. But the computer does not seem to care, showing that a file is loading.

"_Here is the wished for file, my dear._" The computer screen flashes before returning to the same nauseating green color as the liquid inside the tubes, showing a text file.

_Day Two-hundred-sixty-four._

_Alpha-12-6-04-38364 is doing well, physically. Mentally, there seem to be a few problems- 'memories' that seem to be coming back, associations. Have scheduled an appointment with a "physician", will see what Dr. Aeger says. The rest of the specimens will be kept for research at this moment, to be disposed of later._

She blinks after reading the article. Dr. Aeger- that's _her_ doctor. And just who- or what- _is_ this Alpha? She turns back to the screen, continues to read.

_Day two-hundred eighty._

_Improvement continues, memory repression successful. An unfortunate curiosity in matters not revolving her, but that will be dealt with. Must keep Daniel away at all costs. _

Daniel- who is that? Wait a second...wasn't that the name the evil looking man called the boy? What on earth did he have to do with this- this _experiment_? She feels compelled to read on, thirsting for the littlest bit of knowledge, though she knows she should turn back _now_ and forget about it all.

It feels so foreign- and yet so familiar...

_Day four-hundred_.

_Aeger, the idiot, upset the experiment. Will have to do damage control, after locking Aeger in the Ghost Zone. If he's too much to deal with, I'll make sure he's hunted to the end of the Ghost Zone and back._

Ghost Zone? What is _that_? It...it almost seems like something she should know... And Aeger- what did he _do_? To have incurred her husband's wrath in such a manner... upsetting the experiment- _what_ experiment?

She reads through more entries, becoming more and more confused as the journal continues. A day-by-day account of the antics of Alpha-12-6-04-83864, whatever that- _who_ that might be, along with various notes and the occasional diagram or formula.

It isn't until she reaches the last one that she freezes in terror.

_She's reading forbidden material again. No matter what efforts I put in to convince her to stay away from my office and any literature that might bring back the slightest memories- even though by all accounts, she should _have _none, being nothing more than a creation in a lab- she still begins to remember every time I catch her with something I shouldn't. Either I will have to put a security lock on my office and private rooms, or find some way of distracting her- perhaps giving her a child would be something that would permanently keep her mind off of the past- although the ramifications of her having a child might be great. Must complete more experiment-_

_**Sector 12A breach, unknown ectoplasmic being entering Sector 12A from Ghost Portal- scanning ecto-signature, ecto-signature confirmed- Daniel Phantom. High security mode initiated.**_

_I will continue this account when I finish dealing with Daniel._

Daniel- the boy. The _ghost_ boy? Are there really such things as ghosts? Ghosts are pretend, aren't they? And- what did he mean, 'creation in a lab'? And- oh my goodness- does he mean _her_? _She_ snuck into the 'forbidden' library that morning, to get her book on radioactivity. And _she_ has no memories and _she_ wants children...

What- what could this all possibly _mean_?

How could she be _created_?

She's a smart woman, even without most of her memories. She knows that it's not possible to just _create_ people- but...a couple of months ago, when Vlad was out doing some kind of business deal in New York (she remembers it quite well, since he brought her back several gifts), she snuck into his library again, and grabbed a stack of books she hid in her chambers, until he left for Philadelphia for another trip. The books were more biology-centered than anything she had read before, and they touched upon genetic research and developments in the field.

There was an entire chapter on cloning.

Reproductive cloning- the transferring of a nucleus from an adult donor cell to an egg, whose nucleus has been removed and thus it's genetic makeup. She was fascinated by it, amazed that science managed to clone animals, making perfect- healthy- copies of the donor animal. But human cloning was- and still is- impossible. The book was not old, and she doubts that in the few months since she's read the book, things have advanced so much. Plus- she _can't _be a clone. She was born _years_ before cloning was possible. No, she's just a poor woman who was in a horrible accident and lost her husband and her memories as an effect.

But...

She closes her eyes, and scrolls to the beginning of the journal.

_Day One._

_I have finally succeeded in making the perfect match. Unlike with Daniel, I used a different compound, keeping the ectoplasm levels low. After all, I don't want, nor need another half-ghost on my hands right now. I just want the perfect replacement- and I have created her._

_Day Two._

_Alpha-12-6-04-83864_ _is still unconscious. This does not worry me, as vitals are strong. I suspect that in less than a week, she will be waking._

_Day Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine._

_No change._

_Day Ten._

_Alpha-12-6-04-83864 awakes. She is disoriented, and knows nothing, not even her name. I tell her the pertinent facts, and make her believe she was a victim in a horrific accident, which-_

It _is_ her.

She _is_ the clone.

These- these other women- were they supposed to be her, but were not 'perfect' enough? What went _on_ in this lab? What is her husband trying to _do_?

Blackness overwhelms her.

She faints.


End file.
